


Veilfire

by granolaman



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, iron bull pretending not to have feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/granolaman/pseuds/granolaman
Summary: Gratuitous fluff inspired by a single line of ambient dialogue that I wrote in a fugue state at 1 am last night! Barely edited short piece about Iron Bull catching feelings that he's pretty good at lying to himself about.
Relationships: Iron Bull/Male Trevelyan, Male Inquisitor/Iron Bull
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Veilfire

“Hmm, veilfire.” Arthur’s eyes were glued to the green flame emanating from the torch in his hand. His brow furrowed, his pupils constricted, his hair lightly being pushed back by the strange, magical updraft. Iron Bull watched him, carefully, like he always did. The… veilfire, as the Inquisitor and Solas called it, made him nervous. It was like a memory of fire, if he understood correctly, which isn’t something that should just be there where he could see it.

Then again, all magic made him feel about like that. Bull sniffed, and tried not to make a face at the smell of the magic wafting over towards him while the party walked on. Yes, there’s a smell.

“I’m sure there’s another elven glyph in here…” Arthur trailed off while he scanned the walls of the ruin, not even looking where he was going as he descended the stairs further in. The mage was so clumsy, it was a miracle he hadn’t slipped. Most people probably wouldn’t describe him as clumsy, but Bull noticed the way he caught himself mid-slip fifty times a day. He was pretty good at hiding it, making it look like it was on purpose, even when a misstep took him to his knees. Arthur on his knees…

Bull shook his head. Better to stay focused on their mission. Whatever the hell that was right now. He followed close behind the Inquisitor as he continued to methodically scan for another veilfire glyph, lit only by the green glow in front of his face. The warmth- No, the memory of warmth touched his face, and he stopped. The qunari allowed Arthur to get a few more steps ahead of him before continuing. It was too freaky to let the veilfire near him. Arthur, for some reason, seemed to enjoy it, though he couldn’t possibly imagine why. Arthur confused Bull on a daily basis, whether it was his fascination with old magic or the warm looks he sent his way.

Last night, in the tavern, Bull had told some dumb joke, and all he could remember about the moment was Arthur looking up at him, smiling, eyes full of admiration. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t a great sign. That wasn’t what they had talked about when they had started having sex, and he didn’t want to give the man a false idea of what they were. In the moment, though, that wasn’t on his mind. All he could think about was how warm Arthur’s skin was where Bull’s hand rested on his thigh, and how soft his lips would be when they went back to the room.

“Bull?” His eyes snapped back to the Inquisitor, who was currently looking at him, excitement lighting up his features.

“Yeah, boss?” As casual a tone as ever.

“Can you take care of this door for me?” Bull’s gaze followed the smaller human’s gesture, to see an old oak door, slightly rotten but still very much intact.

“Not a problem.” He nodded, made his way over, and busted the door open with one swift kick. “That help?” Vivienne and Cole were bickering on the other side of the room, or, more accurately, Vivienne was bickering at Cole. Bull had not failed to notice that the Inquisitor had darted in by his side to look through the now open doorway, almost touching him, but keeping a few inches distance. He stood his ground, looking down at the redheaded mage, watching as his eyes lit up. Arthur’s eyes were on the newly opened room, though, full of treasure and what appeared to be old rotting tomes. Something twinged in Bull’s chest as he watched the man’s eyes, illuminated in green, darting back and forth, taking in this new information.

“The glyph has to be in here! Come on, let’s see what these books are!” Arthur continued ahead, and Bull felt the cold close in as the mage left his immediate area. No, wait, that was just the effect of the veilfire fading. While no one was looking, Bull took the opportunity to rub his temples with a massive grey hand. This magic messed with his head. Time to get back to business.

And with that thought, his attention was wholly back on tracking down creepy elven glyphs and watching for undead.

\---

Bull was lying awake, staring at the top of his canvas tent. He wasn’t tired; it had been a day mostly full of exploring the Dales and puzzle solving, and little combat. Sleep would come, just not for a little while. So he laid there, waiting, focusing on not thinking. Not thinking about grabbing Arthur by the shoulders, not thinking about tangling his hands in soft, long red hair-

“Bull?” A tentative whisper came from the tent flap by his head.

“Yes?” He softly responded. It was another moment before Arthur replied, and he took the opportunity to ground himself, further shedding any facial expression or expectation of what might be about to happen.

“Would it bother you if I slept in here?” Arthur’s soft voice sounded sweet, almost nervous. If he hadn’t known better, Bull would’ve thought he was the first man Arthur had ever been with. Unable to help himself, he smiled slightly and let out a soft laugh.

“No. Get in here.” Arthur crawled in, and immediately snuggled up to Bull’s side, and soon had massive arms wrapped around him. “Something bothering you? Or is this a different kind of social call?” Bull’s low bass reverberated through his chest, where Arthur’s head currently lay, and his hot breath landed near the mage’s ear, lost in his shining copper hair.

“No, not that.” Arthur stifled a small laugh. “I just… wanted to be near you.” There was a long silence while Bull considered that. He watched shadows cast by the dying embers of their fire on the canvas above him, taking care to keep his expression neutral. Even if he hadn’t, he wasn’t quite sure what his natural expression would be. “Is that… okay?” Arthur, probably not even to his own knowledge, gripped Bull’s side a little tighter while he waited for a response.

“It’s not about me.” Bull pulled the smaller man closer, taking some satisfaction at the sigh of happiness it brought out of the redhead. “I’m here to give you what you need.” It was a statement, not a request, not a question. Arthur hummed in response, already falling back into the throes of sleep. Once Iron Bull was fully certain Arthur had fallen asleep fully, he began to gently stroke the man’s hair.


End file.
